


Rock Bottom

by MargaretKire



Series: Insatiable [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental frottage, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Derek Hale, Derek has to help himself out a lot to stay sane, Full Shift Werewolves, High Sex Drive, Like Insanely High, M/M, Masturbation, That is not a tag yet and I am not surprised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:59:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargaretKire/pseuds/MargaretKire
Summary: Derek has a unique problem that afflicts some adult werewolves: an insatiable sex drive. He handles it himself, not wanting to inflict it upon anyone else.But then... Stiles happens.





	Rock Bottom

 

Derek had a daily routine:

 

Wake up. Always, _always,_ with a hard-on.

 

Rut against the sheets until orgasm is achieved. This usually takes a very short time, as (1) he’s gone without climaxing for about six hours, and (2) he’s probably been dreaming about sex and is close anyway, if he hasn’t already had a wet dream. Or two.

 

Clean up bed. Possibly change the sheets. (The sheets get changed several times a week.)

 

Shower. Wash hair. Wash body. Wash dick. Jerk off for second time.

 

Go for run. Come home. Second shower. Third orgasm.

 

Breakfast. Protein. Lots of protein. Werewolf metabolism is unforgiving. Especially Derek’s werewolf metabolism. Fruit. Green tea.

 

Start work from home office. Go over spreadsheets, balance accounts, make a few phone calls.

 

Ten minutes before lunch, jerk off in bathroom. Wash hands.

 

Make lunch. More protein. Lots of vegetables. More tea.

 

Finish work. Send emails. Review schedule for the following day.

 

Ten minutes before dinner, jerk off in bathroom. Wash hands.

 

Make dinner. Even more protein. Healthy grains. More vegetables. Water with lemon. Fruit for dessert.

 

Yoga. Only for thirty minutes. Because by then it’s time to masturbate, again.

 

Masturbate. Wash hands.

 

Get ready for evening plans.

 

If it’s a pack night, send texts, check fridge for enough beer and snacks. Clean up living room.

 

Wish in vain that Stiles won’t make it to pack night.

 

Greet the pack members with a growl. Commence pack business.

 

Don’t stand too close to Stiles. Don’t talk to Stiles. Ignore Stiles.

 

Go to kitchen to get a beer. Tuck hard-on into waistband. Pray no one notices. Get breathing under control. Get heart rate down.

 

As soon as last pack member is gone, dash to bathroom and tug out another one. This will be the messiest, most fulfilling orgasm of the day.

 

Deny _why_ this one is always the best. _Why_ it’s only this good if Stiles has been there. Only this good when Stiles leaves his scent around… when he’s been laughing and talking and moving those, those fingers around… and… and… _oh, god, mmmnhhgghh!!!_

 

Wash hands.

 

***

 

Scott is an idiot.

 

There is nothing out here. Unless you count the old cabin. Which Stiles apparently counts.

 

“Scott, is that where the hikers saw the ghoul? It looks like the place they described. Lemme just get a little closer and- ow! Ouch! Scotty!!! This bush is eating me! Ugh, arg… it’s a thistle, omg, it’s huge! I didn’t know they got this big. Jesus. Scott, Derek, don’t go through this way. Uh, walk around, okay? Man, I can see the prickers sticking out of my calves. Do you think I could be allergic? Scott, were you allergic to thistles back before you were all, you, know, grr, scary werewolf? Oh look, dude, is that a well? Like an old-timey, ‘Lassie go get help, Timmy’s fallen in the well’ sort of well? Do you think there are skeletons down there? Or treasure? Did we bring a flashlight? We should look. There could be, like, clues and stuff, you know? GAH! Oh sorry, that was just a squirrel. Thought it was a ghost rat. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Let me just drink some water. Regroup a bit. Maybe eat that snack bar. Where is that thing. Oh. Derek, you totally ate it already didn’t you? That’s okay, big guy. Don’t want your muscle to shrivel up. Gotta stuff yourself full of calories and-”

 

“What’s that sound?” Scott asked, craning his head around. Derek heard it too: a sort of high pitched grating noise. All three of them stood stock-still, listening intently.

 

“I think it’s coming from the cabin?” Scott said, shaking his head and looking to Derek for his opinion.

 

“The cabin,” Derek confirmed. Scott pulled at his lower lip in thought, staring at the wooden building.

 

Stiles looked back and forth between Derek and Scott, then over at the cabin, then back. “Yeah, sorry guys. I got nothing. Human ears over here. Not much use for all this ghost hunting business. I do my best but, well, I’m more book smart.. And street smart. Not cabin-in-the-woods smart, so uh, whatcha you guys hear, huh?”

 

“A voice. Or like, underwater noises?” Scott ventures. “It sounds sort of like… a submarine does in movies, you know? Like, creaky all around.”

 

Derek just nodded once in agreement. Stiles’ eyes went round as saucers. “Wow, okay, and what is Hunt for Red October doing in a cabin in the middle of the woods?”

 

Scott shrugged and shook his head. Derek merely stared.

 

“Alright, that’s cleared that up. Thank you both so much for being so incredibly eloquent. I don’t know that I’ve ever had such a thorough, intelligent conversation in my life. I-”

 

“Stay here,” Derek instructed, glaring for half a second at Stiles’ open mouth, before starting to walk cautiously toward the cabin. “Scott, circle back while I check the front door.”

 

“Oh no, you’re not leaving me behind,” Stiles protested.

 

“He’s right, Stiles,” Scott said. Derek sent him a silent thank you for backing him up for once. “Whatever’s in there sounds weird, man. Like, really weird. You don’t wanna go in there. Hell, I don’t wanna go in there.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes and continued making his way silently to the cabin. He could feel Stiles’ pout from where he was left behind, just under cover of the treeline.

 

Derek wanted this little adventure over for a number of reasons. He had a load of laundry he’d like to do. He was getting sort of hungry. He was tired of wandering out in the woods in his full human form. But, by far the most pressing issue was the one beginning to make itself known in his jeans. After years of practice, he knew how to discreetly tuck himself into the band of his pants, but it was a definite distraction.

 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t notice the footsteps closing in from behind. Maybe that’s why he didn’t react quick enough when Stiles went darting past them, calling out something about seeing a hatch or a door or something. Derek wasn’t sure what he had said, because a moment later, Stiles was falling headfirst into a pit that opened up under the rotting wood he was walking over. Instinctively, Derek grabbed for him. He caught him, but the ground under his own feet gave way, and then the two of them were tumbling down into the dark.

 

They slid for several dozen feet, madly scrambling for purchase, though the dirt walls were too smooth to grab onto. Then the slope gave way to a drop off and they plunged another ten feet into a narrow crevice.

 

Derek was practically on top of Stiles, the body under his limp and unmoving. His blood ran cold. Was Stiles-

 

Stiles moaned and flailed halfheartedly. Derek heaved a sigh of relief. “You okay, Stiles?’

 

“Ow.”

 

“Anything broken?”

 

“No?”

 

Derek ran an exploratory hand quickly over Stiles’ face and head. No blood. Though he could have internal injuries.

 

They were half crouched between the sheer rock walls, no room to maneuver, though Derek was finally able to get into a standing position. He had to pull Stiles up with him because there was no room for him to remain crouched.

 

Light filtered down from the opening far above their heads. “Hello? Guys?!” Scott’s voice called down to them.

 

“Scott!” Stiles screamed in Derek’s ear. He tried to wiggle out of the way so that Stiles wasn’t plastered to the front of him (for more than one reason), but there was no place to go. The walls held them in a chilly embrace. It would have been tight enough for one person, but for two-

 

“Stiles!” Scott hollered back. ‘You’re alive!”

 

“Surprise,” Stiles mumbled. Then he drew breath and shouted again. “Bring rope! We need to climb out.”

 

“Okay! I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Then he was gone. Derek could hear his feet pounding away from them far above.

 

“Let’s hope he’s quick,” Stiles said, his head thumping back against the stone wall. The movement exposed his throat. Derek swallowed.

 

_Think of something else._

 

Stiles’ scent was filling Derek’s senses. His throat on display like that. Jesus. It was obscene. Derek closed his eyes.

 

_Think of something else!_

 

“Dude… uh,” Stiles started, hesitatingly. Oh no. Oh fucking hell, no. “Do you have a flashlight in your pocket, or…?”

 

Derek just swallowed harshly, squinting his eyes even tighter.

 

“Oh. Oh my god. That’s not a flashlight. Derek, you’re… that’s… wow, okay, that’s, yeah.”

 

Derek groaned as Stiles wiggled.

 

“Stiles,” he grated out. “Stop moving.”

 

“But I think I can give you some more room if I just-”

 

He shimmied his hips trying to move to the right.

 

“Nhhh,” Derek said. “Stiles, please stop moving.”

 

“Okay, okay. Stopping.”

 

There was a long silence filled only by the two of them breathing. Stiles was the first to break.

 

“Alright, so, I need to say I’m sorry for a couple of things.” Derek gave him an unimpressed look that he wasn’t sure Stiles could see in the gloom. “First, obviously, that I caused us to get stuck down here. My bad. Second, I’m really sorry for, uh, _that.”_

 

“What?”

 

Stiles rolled his hips just enough for Derek to feel a second erection trapped between their bodies. “Um, that.”

 

Derek’s head smacked backwards. “Jesus fuck!”

 

“I know! I’m sorry! I can’t help it. I know you're mad or grossed out or whatever, but what is my body supposed to do? This is the closest to a hard dick my dick has ever been, okay? It’s only natural for it to want to make friends.”

 

“Stiles, goddammit.”

 

“Look, I’ll scootch over. I think there’s more room in that direction.”

 

“No, don’t- _uhhh.”_

 

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll just. Um. I’ll just get my hips over here and-”

 

“Stiles, stop moving.”

 

“No, it’s okay, I can get you some more room, here, let me-”

 

“Stiles!”

 

“I’ll just-”

 

_“Stiles! Mmmnughhh, mm, ah… Fuck!”_

 

Silence.

 

“Derek?”

 

Heavy breathing.

 

“Derek? Did you just-”

 

“Stiles,” Derek pleaded, his voice wrecked, “don’t.”

 

“You did, didn’t you?”

 

“Stiles, please. I’m begging you-”

 

“You just came. In your pants.”

 

“No, I-”

 

“I feel the wet spot through my shirt.”

 

“Oh god.”

 

Silence.

 

“Does this mean I’m still a virgin or…”

 

“Stiles!” Scott’s voice bellowed from above their heads. “Derek! Boyd came to help haul you out. Catch!” The end of a rope hit Derek in the face.

 

When they were finally both back to the surface, Scott wrinkled his nose and Boyd smirked. Derek headed for the trees, ripping his clothes off and shifting into a full wolf before anyone could ask him any awkward questions.

 

He wasn’t quite quick enough to avoid hearing Stiles asking Scott, “If you get someone else’s come on you, are you still a virgin? Asking for a friend.”

 

Derek ran faster.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Now that Stiles is wise to him, how many "accidental" situations do you think he's going to arrange? For science, of course.


End file.
